Sapphire Water, Ruby Fire
by Aqua Alta
Summary: The fear is there, lurking behind his prideful exterior. He loves Yuuri, yet knows the other boy will never return his love. When Yuuri's subconscious appears in a body apart from Yuuri, which one will he choose? YuuRam, OuRam, side Conrad x Greta
1. When the Moon is Up

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**Another story…. Kill me, please. I actually want to continue Gentle Fire, but now I am in the mood of YuuRam and Wolfram x Maou (What should I call this pairing? WxM? WolfMa? OuRam?). So, here I am. This is mostly will be about betrayals, wars, angst, darkness, unreturned love, confusion, etc. If you kept asking, I might add some kissing scenes or perhaps I would allow you to write some. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

**XXX**

_**IMPORTANT QUESTIONS & NOTICES:**_

_**Which one do you prefer? YuuRam or Wolfram x Maou? Remember, your reviews will decide which pairing I'll use.**_

_**Do you have any other side pairings you want to suggest?**_

_**If you were asking why I would dare to write a Conrad x Greta, read Sayoko Bizen's 'New World: The Continuation'. I'm not resurrecting Julia or adding any OOC for Conrad. Somehow, I'm not in the mood of ConYoz.**_

_**If you have any story idea, be sure to send them to me! I get bored with stories easily, so your ideas will keep me running this story in check 'cause I only write when I know somebody out there likes my story.**_

_**BTW, any suggestions how I should call Wolfram x Maou? I mean, Yuuri x Wolfram into YuuRam is a good way to make a nickname.**_

**XXX**

_PROLOGUE: WHEN THE MOON IS UP_

When he met Shibuya Yuuri for the very first time, he was convinced that Yuuri was just a mere wimp.

He had been standing beside the boy for three years and counting now. He had seen and watched how the wimpy baseball bay had turned into the King he admired (not that he would admit it). He knew he still loved Yuuri just like at the very first time, yet now admiration was thrown somewhere in that affection.

It hurt, actually, every time he crawled onto Yuuri's bed and found himself being kicked off the bed in the morning. He sometimes wondered why Yuuri had not broken their engagement yet, however, he never said a word. He did not dare to change everything form the way they were. He was afraid of what might come. He was afraid whether the boy's decision would be far too painful for him to take.

In the opposite of what people might think, Wolfram von Bielefeld was a fragile boy. He was afraid to let it show, however. He feared many, yet pretended to feel nothing. He always acted as if he had not cared, yet deep down his heart was breaking into billion pieces. That was why he finally decided to hide behind his prideful and short-tempered mask, telling everyone that he was not one you would want to mess up. Years trained him how to be the best actor, yet deep inside he still felt insecure. Once his mask was broken, his vulnerability would be as clear as a crystal glass, shown for everyone to see.

Right now, curling under the blankets on the mattress of his fiancée's bed, he was afraid, very afraid that he could practically feel the fear consuming his whole body.

He did not know what was the cause of that fear. Perhaps it was because a nightmare he had earlier? The nightmare of everyone he cared very much, even though he never let the affection show, leaving him, sending him sad smiles and glances. Even though it was just a dream, he could still feel it, the pain, coursing through his veins.

He longed for somebody to hold him tight, just for once.

He gave his sleeping fiancée a sideway glance, assuring himself that the other boy was still asleep. Slowly, wrapping his arms around his nightgown-wrapped body, he scrambled off the bed, making his way slowly toward the balcony.

The moon was up that night, a silver sphere gleaming against the pitch black surrounding. The stars were not to be seen, disappearing from sight. Wolfram sighed, leaning over the railing, wincing when he realized how one breath could feel so painful. He bit his lower lip, trying to restrain the unshed tears from falling.

'_The wimp might see me,'_ he reasoned himself.

The wind blew, bringing unwanted memories from his past. From the event where he realized that Conrad was a half-human 'till Yuuri's accidental proposal hurt him with a thousand knives, stabbing his heart mercilessly. The only sweet memories he had were those of Yuuri's smiles, yet those smiles were rarely directed to him.

It hurt when the one you loved would never love you back, and even more when you knew it very well.

A tear rolled down his pale cheek, before finally dropping onto the ground. He looked up, drawing in air in sharp painful gasps. Why couldn't he find someone who would love him unconditionally? Someone aside from his family?

The moon above glowed brightly, blindingly white. He shielded his eyes, eyes wide and mouth agape in confusion. The thunder roared off somewhere, and suddenly droplets of rain started to fall, caressing his skin as if soothing him, calming him.

The rain was…warm.

The moonlight faded into its pale gleam again, and he squinted. Was it…a figure up there falling from the sky?

As the speck of shadow moved closer, he could make out a pair of wings and a figure of a man. He gasped. Had he gone mad that he was actually seeing the illusion of an angel?

The cold night air suddenly turned warm, as if heated by an unseen force. Somewhere within him he could hear someone calling his name, again and again.

"_Wolfram…."_

His eyes widened impossibly large. The figure was close, so close to him that he could recognize the person with wings.

He took an instinctive step backward and gave a glance at the bed in the room behind him. There he was, Shibuya Yuuri, the 27th Maou, still dozing peacefully and wandering in his own dreamland.

It just…had to be a dream.

The Maou—who he had known for long as Yuuri's alter ego—was now descending toward him, black wings of an angel unfurled behind him.

Angel of Death.

His emerald eyes took in the sight before him. The Maou stood on the railing of the balcony, before grabbing his arm and pulling his lithe figure into a possessive embrace.

Wolfram rasped out, "But…aren't you…."

"_I am here, Wolfram…."_

The whisper sent a shiver down his spine. As if sensing him shivering, the Maou wrapped his wings around them person. He gasped, feeling the Maou burying his head onto his shoulder, dark shoulder-length hair tickling his neck and shoulder blades. He was aware, oh so aware, of the warm black feathers embracing him and the other boy.

The embrace was…warm…and sweet, almost passionate.

"_I am here…, for you…."_

Somehow, those words brought back tears into his eyes. A drop rolled down, then followed by many others. He was dangling in the Maou's embrace, bare feet lifted from the ground. The Maou, still holding him close, kissed his tears away, one by one, with so much affection and tenderness he had longed for long that it made his tears run even harder.

"_Hush, I am here…. So don't cry…."_

**XXX**

**There. Too short? What do you expect? This is the prologue. Yay or nay? Critiques, please! This is still an experimental stories, so save your praises (if you actually have one). CRITIQUES! CRITIQUES! CRITIQUES! Oh yes, I am going insane. Remember, your reviews will determine how the story will flow!**

**See you in the next chap, fast! ('Cause I'm in holiday)**

_Aqua Alta_


	2. Night's Waltz

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**First chapter! Oh yeah, I'm definitely out of the track. Hope this chapter is long enough for you. BTW, if you have the Celine Dion's song called 'I'm Your Angel', listen to it while reading the Maou x Wolfram part (the first part). Just a suggestion here.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own KKM.**

_CHAPTER 1: NIGHT'S WALTZ_

_The air was sweet and warm, wrapping him in a comfortable embrace. He sighed, relishing the way the wind blew, parting his hair and ruffling his clothes. The grass beneath his bare feet was moist and green, forming a soft, lush carpet. White petals were showering down from the sky, and he reached out to catch one…._

"Wolfram…."

The whisper was raw with passion and longing, and Wolfram shuddered in his half-sleeping state. It was too nice, the feeling was too nice. He did not want to wake up, to open his eyes and find out that the person who called him with such desire was not Yuuri. Perhaps he could pretend, for a moment, that it was Yuuri who called him like that.

'_As if he would,'_ Wolfram muttered bitterly in his mind, feeling the familiar pain wrenching his heart, squeezing it painfully. He bit his lower lip until it drew blood, willing himself not to cry again.

How many times had he curled up on Yuuri's bed, letting his tears run silently as he watched the other boy slept?

A warm hand ran through his hair, making him shiver slightly. The touch was feather-light, tender in its every move. He was lying on someone's lap. Who? He did not dare to see, still. He wanted too savor the moment, to imagine—even hope—that he was lying on Yuuri's lap, being caressed by the boy.

The hand was combing his hair, stroking it, and the voice was whispering soothing words. Sleep was going to overtake him again if he had not been careful. The peace he felt…it was overwhelming. Before he realized it, the tears he had been holding were running free, wetting the person's lap. He kept his eyes closed still, letting the bottled-up emotion stream out of his whole body. Sobs rocked his lithe form, each one louder than the previous one. The person simply put another warm hand on his shoulder, leaning onto his ear, hushing him quietly, whispering comforting words all the way. The other hand sometimes strayed from his hair to wipe away his tears, warm skin brushing his pale one.

"Hush, little wolf," the voice soothed. "Don't cry…. I'm here for you. Remember?"

He could not help but nodded between his tears. He knew that voice. But whose voice was it?

"I've seen, little wolf. All the pain you have gone through. I've seen it, through the eyes of my previous body."

Ah, a story he knew too well. Had he heard it somewhere?

"I was pathetic that time. But not now. I have been granted a new body, separated from my old one, physically and mentally. I am no longer a mere sub-consciousness." There was a strain in the voice when it said that sentence. "Now I am truly here."

The stranger picked Wolfram up, therefore causing the warm hands to leave his hair and shoulder. Wolfram opened his eyes in protest immediately when he felt the warmth leaving his body, only to be greeted by the sight of the Maou, looking down at him, a wistful smile on his lips. Then the Maou stood up, carrying him bridal-style. His cheeks heated up, the mortification of being carried like a woman, yet still….

The Maou leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, before kissing the wet remnants of his tears away. Wolfram blushed, averting his eyes, for the very first time realizing that they were on the shore right below the cliff where the Blood-Pledge Castle lay. The castle was up there, illuminated by the silver moon. A question hammered onto Wolfram's brain, forcing him to think logically.

"Yuuri?"

The Maou seemed to freeze when he heard that name. His dark brows furrowed, and for a minute—still in his hazy state—Wolfram felt the fear of starting the Maou's rage. Yet the frown was soon replaced by a forlorn expression, so sad that Wolfram could not help but feel guilty. The blonde dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry…," he whispered.

A historic moment. The very first time Wolfram von Bielefeld admitted that he was sorry from the very bottom of his heart. Even the Maou was taken aback, yet soon he smiled softly at the boy in his arms.

Wolfram could feel his cheeks heating up at the sight of the Maou's smile. Yuuri never smiled at him like that. That smile…it made him feel special, as if he had been the only one who could see it, as if the smile had been for him truly and only. No, Yuuri's smile was equally warm, yet he directed it to everyone, sharing his happiness with every single person. Yuuri was too kind, too kind that his kindness hurt Wolfram.

When it came to Yuuri, somehow nobody was special. Even enemies were friends. There were no differences between a person to another for the Soukoku.

That hurt him. A lot.

The Maou spoke up, cutting Wolfram's train of thoughts. "You should come back," the taller boy said, somehow with a hint of regret and pain in his tone, that Wolfram could not help but wish to wipe away that sadness completely. Such a great being should not be allowed to be sad, especially over someone who was as pathetic as he was. This person carrying him was definitely not Yuuri, yet he could feel some kind of strange connection between them. "Your fiancée might realize that you are gone," the Maou said again, this time not looking at him.

"Why are you doing this?" Wolfram demanded suddenly, all the questions he had been holding pouring out from his mouth. "What about Yuuri now that he is without your power?"

The Maou's eyes narrowed, and Wolfram winced. "You care about your fiancée too much," the Maou registered him coldly. Then his expression went soft again. "Shibuya has to find his own power," he said slowly, looking straight into Wolfram's emerald eyes with his deep, dark ones. "He cannot depend on me forever. He has power, yet with me within him, he will never realize its existence, buried deep within."

Wolfram clutched at the Maou's shirt. The very same which Yuuri usually wore. "Then what about you?" he asked, the stubbornness coming back to him. "You are still the Maou."

The Maou smiled, and suddenly Wolfram felt pathetic under the other boy's intense gaze. He was helpless within the Maou's embrace. His temper left him, his sharp words he had trained so well escaped out of the window. He was like a child, begging for warmth and affection, only to find those waiting for him within that embrace.

He simply could not resist.

"You will see, little wolf, you'll see," the Maou said, placing another kiss on his forehead. He noticed how the Maou seemed to savor his skin, kissing him in every given opportunity. Always tender, warm, somehow different from the cold rage he had been used to.

'_He is just like me,'_ Wolfram thought as the Maou unfurled his wings, magically not ripping his shirt. _'We hide behind the same mask.'_

The Maou tightened his grip on him before finally soared to the sky. Wolfram could smell his scent, the smell of mint, mixed with lavender and the salty scent of the ocean. _'He smells like lavender, and mint…,'_ the blonde mused. Out of instinct, he looked down, the whole ocean spread before him, and he gasped at the sight.

"Beautiful," he breathed in awe.

"Just like you," the Maou said softly, causing the blonde in his arms to blush.

A few strong flaps of the black wings, and they were on the balcony of the King's chamber. Wolfram expected the Maou to lower him down, but no, not yet. The Maou gave a glance at the still sleeping Yuuri, before entering the room silently, Wolfram still in his hands.

He stopped when he was at the edge of the bed, at Wolfram's side of the bed. There was an awkward pause there, as if filled with hesitation. Yet before Wolfram could do something, anything, the Maou kissed his forehead tenderly, in the same time slowly lowering him onto the soft mattress, never breaking their contact. Wolfram's back met the bed, and the Maou released him. The blonde nearly protested aloud, yet the Maou leaned in dangerously close, before whispering into his ear huskily, "See you tomorrow, little wolf."

Several long strides, then the Maou was gone through the balcony, leaving the still-stunned Wolfram in the room.

**XXX**

Shibuya Yuuri woke up with his head throbbing like mad.

His body felt strange to him, as if something had gone missing. He was tangled with dozens of sheets and blankets (not that it was unusual), yet there was definitely something unusual there, something missing in the scene, also in his body.

Oh. He got it. Wolfram was not there.

He touched Wolfram's side of the bed. It was still warm. The blonde just left. _'Perhaps for the bath,'_ he concluded, yawning widely. _'But that doesn't explain what's so unsettling with my body.'_

He walked to the mirror, studying himself on the smooth reflective surface. Nothing was wrong. Only him, clad in his pajamas.

Yet something was unsettlingly…light…, as if something had set free from his person.

He recalled his previous dream. Not a very pleasant one, he had to admit. Why would he dream of Maou leaving his body? Of that powerful being to gain a body of his own? He had to admit it was scary. Or perhaps it was for the better of him? Of both of them? Then again, why was Wolfram with the Maou in his silly dream?

Why was Wolfram crying in the Maou's embrace?

He shook his head, deciding that the strange dream had affected him far more than he should have allowed. Yet the sight of Wolfram crying, especially in the Maou's protective, even possessive embrace, then the accusing, hurt look the Maou sent him…. It was enough to throw him off the track.

What were those pangs in his heart? Guilt, sadness, and…jealousy?

Yuuri snorted. Him? Jealous of Wolfram? Impossible. It was Wolfram's part to act as the jealous one. Not him. Besides, Wolfram never cried. He was strong and prideful, and could take care of himself.

Yes. He was just too affected by his…nightmare, that was all.

Still hesitant, Yuuri made his way toward the bath, somehow unsure of himself far worse than what he thought possible.

**XXX**

Wolfram stared at the droplets of water slipping off from his fingers. The water and steam was lavender and mint-scented, just like what he had requested. He wanted to relish in that scent, pretending the warm water was the Maou's embrace.

It was not like he had gotten over Yuuri. It was just he had always thought the Maou as a part of Yuuri. Yet he had seen that night, how different the Maou was with the wimp he had known too well. The Maou's embrace was strong, passionate, easily lulling him into a hazy state of peacefulness and fulfillment. The affection the Maou radiated was…honest, nearing to Yuuri's own.

"Wimp," he whispered, recalling Yuuri's smile, the light the dark-haired boy radiated. A smile tugged on his lips, a wistful smile, to be exact.

"Don't call me a wimp!"

If Wolfram von Bielefeld had not been a trained soldier, he might have died at that moment from a heart-attack.

"Yuuri!" he shouted indignantly. "What in Shin'ou name are you doing here?!"

There was a splash somewhere in the huge bath, signing that Yuuri had already entered the bath. Wolfram could hear the pout in his voice. "Taking a bath. What else?" Yuuri replied from somewhere through the thick steam.

An awkward silence followed later on, before finally Yuuri spoke up in surprise, "Nee, Wolfram, don't you smell that the water is scented by a different incense than the one the maids usually use?"

Wolfram reddened immediately. "I requested this incense! Don't you dare to complain!" he yelled in faked annoyance, simply to hide his embarrassment. He would not admit the real reason beneath the incense, not for another million years.

Yuuri sniffed the air. "It smells nice," he said lightly. "Like lavender and mint."

Somehow, the sentence brought an impact on Yuuri's brain. He replayed a scene of his previous nightmare, where Wolfram was carried bridal-style by the Maou. There was a sentence, more like being thought by Wolfram instead of being said aloud.

'_He smells like lavender, and mint….'_

He shook his head ferociously, trying to shake the sentence, and the image, off his head. _'Nah, it's just a dream,'_ he assured himself. _'Just a coincidence.'_

To test his hypothesis, Yuuri asked cautiously, "Do you always like lavender and mint, Wolfram?"

**XXX**

Wolfram raised an eyebrow in slight shock. _'What kind of question is that?'_ he questioned himself, wondering what the hell was wrong with the 27th Maou who was practically sharing a bath with him. What should he do? Admit that he just liked it from the previous night? _'Never 'till the hell freezes over,'_ Wolfram snorted inwardly. Instead, he opened his mouth and said, a little harsher than what he intended, "Not your business, wimp."

"I was only asking! And don't call me wimp!" Yuuri protested from the other end from the bath, trying to save whatever dignity he had left.

Wolfram snorted. "A wimp is a wimp to the end," he stated simply, climbing out of the bath.

Yuuri's next sentence stopped him. "Wolfram, have you ever cried?"

The question was simple and pure, yet it left Wolfram stunned on his spot, eyes wide and mouth agape, finding himself at loss of words. "Yes," he finally replied harshly. "Yes, I have. For many times."

Then he left without even a single glance.

**XXX**

The sun was shining in its brightest that afternoon, and Wolfram could feel the heat beating down on his skin. He had given up his cobalt blue jacket for quite a long time, now only clad in a thin white shirt and trousers. His soldiers were just as sweaty as he was, panting with each swing of their sword.

"Harder, you fool!" Wolfram shouted, meeting his training opponent's sword with a terrifying clang that would make any sentient species wince. The blonde soldier was exceptionally full-spirited that day, if not a little vengeful in his every move. His opponent, an unlucky soldier, fell down onto the dusty ground, the tip of Wolfram's sword pressed on his shoulder.

"Get up!" Wolfram ordered, sheathing his sword, sending the fallen soldier a murderous look. "Go and train yourself!"

The soldier gave a terrified whimper and scampered away, desperate to get away from the angry prince. The others stared at Wolfram in silence, as if afraid he might have exploded anytime.

Wolfram was about to call the next unlucky soldier when a soldier ran toward him, babbling and panting all the way. "Wolfram-kaka!" the soldier said, finally stopping in front of the frowning prince. "There is somebody looking for you at the front gate! When we refused to let him in, he simply did something with magic that I have never seen before! Some soldiers were lightly wounded and some was unconscious. Gwendal-kaka and Weller-kyo are heading there! Kaka, you better go quickly!"

Wolfram's frown deepened. "Has the Maou heard about this?" he asked the soldier. _'A person looking for me?'_

"Not yet, Wolfram-kaka!"

"Good. Don't let him know first," Wolfram said, striding briskly toward the front gate of the Blood-Pledge Castle. His mind was in turmoil. Who would be searching for him? Who was that person that he could incapacitate the soldiers alone?

**XXX**

The thirteen-year-old girl was just walking nearby when she heard the explosion.

Out of curiosity, she went to check what it was, only to find a soldier running past her at top speed, shouting Wolfram's name all the way. She stopped, looked, then walked again to investigate.

Wolfram. One of her fathers. The more impulsive and dominant one of the two, yet actually he was kind and soft inside. Greta always wondered why Yuuri failed to see that.

Three years had passed since Yuuri adopted her, and Greta had grown attached with all members of the Blood-Pledge Castle. Anissina, Gwendal, Gunther, and—of course—her ever so gentle and mild uncle, Conrad Weller.

Conrad and Greta had become close since he found Greta walking into his room by mistake one night. She had been searching for Yuuri and Wolfram, yet all she found was Conrad. Instead of telling her which way was the King's chamber, Conrad had asked her to stay, reading her a story until she fell asleep.

Soon they had walks around the garden, some games, and even small picnics. Usually the picnics would start when the sun had set. Conrad would set up a small tent in his or her room, and she would bring a basket full of dinner and books. They would have their 'picnics' together, laughing and chatting about everything, anything.

She was thirteen-year-old now, yet that particular activity never reduced as she grew.

Smiling at the memory, she arrived at the front gate, only to find a person wrapped in a hooded cloak standing there, with the guards scattered around his feet

Sharp, dark eyes fixed themselves at her from beneath a hood. She took an instinctive step backward. Her eyes traveled onto the bodies of the soldiers lying around the stranger, all motionless on the ground. "Who…who are you?" she asked, terrified, as the stranger approached her.

"Greta!"

She turned, finding Conrad running toward her and the stranger. If looks could kill, the stranger would have been dead by then. "Don't touch her!" Conrad shouted, his calm composure gone, replaced by blazing anger. His sword was unsheathed, ready to attack.

From the corners of her eyes, she could see the stranger raising his hand, muttering something. A ball of light formed on the stranger's hand, and her first instinct was to shout a warning.

"Uncle Conrad! Don't!"

**XXX**

**There you go! The first chapter! Faster than what I expected. I like Greta's part and Maou's part. What do you think? REVIEW, PLEASE!**

_Aqua Alta_


	3. Unwelcomed Reunion

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**Second chapter! Thank you for all the reviewers! This one is the beginning of Yuuri x Maou x Wolfram triangle. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

_CHAPTER 2: UNWELCOMED REUNION_

He stepped over the body of an unconscious soldier, nearly regretfully. _'I have asked with politeness,'_ he reminded himself in undeniable bitterness. _'And they attacked me.'_ Couldn't people solve things without violence nowadays? He had not even started the fight, for Shin'ou's sake.

A soldier managed to escape, he noticed, when he was distracted by his own thoughts. He was about to raise his hand and render the soldier unconscious, yet the name the soldier shouted all the way brought a smile to his lips, causing him to lower his hand back again.

"Wolfram-kaka!"

The shadow of a genuine smile haunted his expression. _'Soon, little wolf, soon,'_ he thought to himself, recalling their first, and previous, meeting last night.

Wolfram had looked so fragile and sad in his embrace that night, the tears spilling from his usually sharp emerald eyes. _'Shibuya…,'_ he thought, his mood darkening when he recalled the cause of Wolfram's tears. _'You just cannot see what has been waiting for you right in front of your very eyes, can you?'_

A girl passed him, a girl he had known oh so well from the eyes of Shibuya Yuuri. _'Wolfram and Shibuya's adopted daughter,'_ he recognized, trying to remember the girl's name. _'…Greta….'_

The girl stared at him, then at the soldiers on his feet. He muttered several colorful curses inwardly. Trying to assure the girl, whose eyes had gone wide and terrified, he took a step forward, yet then stopped when the girl took a step backward.

"Greta!"

He turned, only to find another familiar face greeting him. _'Conrart Weller,'_ he registered the man, eyes narrowing. The person Yuuri was closest with, and Wolfram's older brother.

He sure as hell did not like the look Conrad was giving him, Wolfram's brother or not.

Conrad's sword was unsheathed, the sharp blade glinting under the sunlight. He had registered Conrad as a calm and mild-mannered man, yet seeing the expression on the man's face he realized that deep down, the half-human shared Wolfram's ferocity and anger whenever their loved ones were potentially threatened or hurt—an act which did not only protect the loved ones, yet also protecting themselves from having the need to go through the pain of seeing their loved ones in misery.

He raised his hand, determined to put a barrier to prevent Conrad from going on further, therefore avoiding a useless fight, only to hear Greta's panic voice, "Uncle Conrad! Don't!"

Conrad halted right on his spot, brown eyes narrowing, filled with genuine concern. "Greta…."

"He can kill you with just a single blast, Uncle!" the girl shouted, verging on tears. "Please, don't!"

Bitterness filled his heart. Was this how she saw him? Why would everyone fear him for his power only? Why did people fear it when they realized that there was someone stronger than they were?

The reddish brown haired girl turned her teary eyes at him, and he stared back with a blank expression. Was he that easy to be misunderstood?

The girl spoke up, voice shaky yet determined, "Please, don't touch Uncle Conrad. If you want to kill someone, then just take me!"

Conrad's eyes widened, lowering down his sword unconsciously. "…Greta…," he whispered, and for a brief moment his eyes softened. The Maou watched this transition with sharp yet blank eyes, cheating any emotion he had within. Wolfram's brother and Wolfram's adopted daughter. He chuckled inwardly, imagining what kind of couple the two could make.

"Greta! Weller-kyo!"

Upon hearing the voice he had known too well, the Maou raised his head, looking up, his hand lowered and the magic fading from his palm. Wolfram put himself between Greta and the Maou, eyes suspicious, protecting his adoptive daughter with his own body. "Who are you?" the blonde demanded, eyes never wavering, unlike the fragile boy he had known from the previous night. "Tell me! You have barged in the territory of the Maou!"

He unclasped his hooded cloak, a smile tugging on his lips. He could not help it. The blonde boy brought smiles to his lips, even though Wolfram was not even aware of that. What he usually felt was cold anger toward injustice, yet this feeling was different, very different….

Throwing his disguise off—cloak, hood, and all—, he greeted the blonde, who gasped at his greeting. "Hello, little wolf."

**XXX**

When the Maou had said that they were going to meet again, he had not expected that their meeting would have been as open as this.

He flushed, realizing how easy it was for him to accept the Maou. A crazy thing, a what seemed to be impossible, yet somehow the Maou always made everything looked too possible to be true. The Maou was a being that had passed space and time, and he supposed that everything about the Maou surpassed both elements too.

He sensed Gwendal arriving, yet even the grouchy man was left speechless in a stunned silence at the sight of the Maou. If he had been just a little bit rational, he might have had smiled. The Maou had that effect on people, the power that shone brightly out of his very being…. It was too overwhelming to be taken at once in a time.

He was the witness of it last night.

The Maou strode toward him, long steps determined and nearing to impatience, past the still-stunned Conrad and Gwendal. Then, without any further warning, yet with touches still as tender as ever, the Maou cupped his cheeks and leaned in, kissing his forehead, whispering in a painful longing that made his chest constrict itself painfully. "I have come, little wolf. Just as what I have promised."

Then, as if out of instinct, he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired boy's torso, loosely at first yet tightening with each passing second, seeking the familiar warmth and finding it, the feeling that he could not comprehend from last night surging back into his whole body, unsettling yet oddly comfortable. He settled his head on the crook of the taller boy's neck, relishing the peace he found within the embrace of the being of Justice. For a moment, he did not care even though the whole world was watching.

"Welcome back."

**XXX**

Yuuri had been wandering around as usual, avoiding Gunther and his endless paperwork. The sun was shining brightly, too bright even for his liking, causing him to discard his jacket and leave it in his room. He did not want to be barbecued in his own castle, thank you very much.

Whistling a familiar tune, he kept on walking, scanning the garden for any sign of his adopted daughter. When he spotted the familiar reddish brown top, he was not quite ready to meet the scene in front of him.

Wolfram—only clad in his white shirt as a top—was hugging his alter ego (that sure as hell had not gained a real body of himself yesterday, as long as he remembered).

The scenes in front of his previous dream flashed back into his mind, forcing themselves into his brain. His brain tried to register what was happening, yet nothing made sense. The scene in front of him was not supposed to happen, never. It was supposed to be impossible.

Yet then, what was happening in front of him?

Conrad spotted him, and immediately called out in a mixture of surprise and concern, "Yuuri?" before rushing toward his side. Wolfram jumped backward, away from his alter ego, expressionless emerald eyes fixed on his wide onyx black ones. Then, the Maou, his alter ego, gazed at him straight in the eyes with such intensity that he could not help but shudder under such piercing eyes.

Gwendal shook his head, and Yuuri realized that this was just the beginning of everything.

**XXX**

Wolfram stood in the balcony of the King's chamber, his back leaning against the railing, arms crossed in front of his chest, facing his fuming fiancée. A pain was starting to grow inside his cranium, potentially turning into a headache, and he stared impassively at the pacing boy.

"So you were saying," Yuuri said, tone cold and flat. "…that last night you have been kidnapped by my alter-ego that now somehow has a body of his own, and yet you didn't tell me straightaway?"

Wolfram frowned. "He did not kidnap me!" the blonde shouted, countering back. "We were just…talking in the balcony! It was you who were sleeping all the time and not aware of everything around you, wimp!" No way he was going to admit that he had been crying and the Maou had been soothing him, not for…say…another millennia.

"Don't call me a wimp!" Yuuri cried out in frustration. "You always accuse me as a cheater, yet who is the cheater here?!"

The sentence caused Wolfram's eyes to narrow dangerously. "Funny, I thought you never cared about this engagement-of-an-accident thing!" he shouted, cheeks flushed red.

Yuuri was taken aback by the sentence. True, he never cared about the engagement. It was a silly mistake after all. Just a misunderstanding. And he never spared any thought of going serious with Wolfram. Heck, they were both boys, for Shin'ou's sake!

Then, why did he start caring now?

Gaze now weak, he turned at his fiancée, who seemed close to tears by then. Tears of anger, he noted. And…was it despair in his eyes?

"Wolf…," he called out, voice weary and weak. "I just want you to be safe…."

"I can take care of myself, thank you," replied the arrogant voice, yet the tone was wavering noticeably, and Yuuri was suddenly aware of how fragile Wolfram looked sometimes. The usually ever-existing rage in those emerald eyes now seemed void, blank, a mask to cover whatever was beneath. Yuuri reached out, hesitantly bringing the smaller boy closer toward him.

Then, slowly, awkwardly, he encircled his arms around the blonde's narrow waist. "Sorry, Wolf…," he whispered in regret. "I…just don't want to see you hurt."

A muffled "Wimp" was his reply, yet this time he smiled when he heard it.

**XXX**

He heard everything, and he knew.

Shibuya was finally opening his heart toward the little wolf, and he was supposed to be happy, seeing how relaxed Wolfram was in the King's embrace. He had seen the boy going through all the pain he did not deserve at all, and now was the time Wolfram could finally be able to get a bit of happiness he longed.

Yes, Wolfram was happy. Slowly, yet surely, Shibuya would finally see what Wolfram truly was, a boy that needed affection desperately, and deserved it.

Slowly, yet surely, they would find out that they were made for each other.

He was supposed to be happy, he told himself, fists curled on his side, his back still leaning on the door of the King's chamber. Yet he simply could not make the pain, the bitterness in his heart, go away.

What was wrong with him? Shin'ou assigned him to separate himself from Yuuri in order to get those two together. He was supposed to make Yuuri jealous, therefore causing the young King to realize the feelings that had been buried deep within—the feelings he had for Wolfram—and also the power he had.

Damn Shin'ou and his ambition for another life!

Slowly, he could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, and there was nobody there to comfort him.

He, the Maou, one of the strongest beings in the whole world, suddenly found himself pathetic in front of a small feeling, and a lithe prince with deep emerald eyes.

**XXX**

"You have to find your own power," he replied coolly when Shibuya asked him the question about why he had chosen this time, from all the times, to separate himself from the King. "And you know what, Shibuya? As long as I am in you, you will continue depending on me."

Besides, he had some other jobs from Shin'ou.

Shibuya scratched his chin thoughtfully, scrutinizing him. He threw the boy a sharp glare, and the boy winced, grinning sheepishly. "You really don't look like me, do you?" Shibuya said, laughing a little. "I mean, I was just wondering…."

"What do you expect from me? We are two separate beings, Shibuya. Even when I was residing in your body, we were separated mentally. The only difference now is that we are separated both mentally and physically."

They were sitting in the King's study, all alone, since Shibuya had refused to let anybody in. Said he wanted to have a private conversation with his used-to-be alter ego. He would have refused this 'friendly meeting', yet unfortunately, it was Wolfram who delivered the invitation to him, and suddenly he found himself unable to resist.

'_Good Shin'ou,'_ he thought darkly. _'I have been going soft lately.'_

Shibuya looked at him straight in the eyes, suddenly going serious again. "You didn't do anything to Wolfram, did you?" he asked, eyes narrow in suspicion.

His brows furrowed, and Shibuya had enough senses to begin panicking. "I would not, and will not, do such thing to your fiancée, Shibuya," he thundered, the rage trying to claim him again. _'Little wolf would not be happy if I hurt his fiancée,'_ he reminded himself, feeling the bitterness take over again when he thought the word 'fiancée'.

Somehow, being trapped in Shibuya's body seemed a better situation. At least, since he would have no body of his own, he did not have to endure what was called 'headaches'.

"If you dared to hurt him, I would not forgive you." Shibuya's next sentence snapped him out of his daze. He turned at the now serious King, a smirk tugging on his lips. _'So he cares after all…,'_ he mused inwardly. _'Good for you, little wolf.'_

Not good for him, however.

The sheepish look on the King's face returned again, and the half-mazoku asked, not staring at him, "Umm…, now that you have a body of your own…, do you have a name? I mean, it feels strange of calling you 'Maou' all the time, since we are both the Maou, actually…."

His eyes widened a little. His name…. Of course, it was the name he used in his previous life, before he knew neither Wolfram nor Shibuya. A name he had long forgotten….

"I do not think it is a great matter to be discussed now," he said flatly after a few seconds. He stood up, ready to leave, eyes boring a hole on Shibuya's eyes. "If you have nothing to say, I will excuse myself, Shibuya."

Shibuya, dumb-founded, could simply nodded.

**XXX**

The door of his chamber opened, and he sat up in a jolt. The stranger at the door paused, as if sensing his movement. Even though the sun had not fully set, he had draped all the curtains over the windows, making the room dark. Too dark to recognize the person standing in the doorway, at least.

But he could smell the familiar scent the stranger gave out, or perhaps he just sensed who was there. "Little wolf," he called, a smile coming back to his lips. "Come in."

The door was closed slowly, as if hesitantly. There were soft steps, and Wolfram von Bielefeld seated himself on the edge of his bed. "Yuuri is explaining the reason behind your sudden separation to my brothers," came the flat statement. He nodded, listening.

Emerald green eyes found his, and he could not help but let his hand run through the mop of smooth blonde hair. He entangled his fingers in those silky strands, and Wolfram seemed to relax in his touch. "Anything else?" he whispered huskily into Wolfram's ear.

"Just checking by," the blonde replied, shuddering when he caressed his cheeks. "What, am I not allowed to do that?"

He chuckled deeply. "Quite the opposite, little wolf," he replied lightly, kissing his cheek. Wolfram blushed deeply, and he pulled the lithe boy so that the smaller boy was sitting on his lap, pampered like a small child.

"The wimp invites you to dinner with us."

"Hmm," he murmured absent-mindedly, toying with his bangs. "You like him, don't you?"

Wolfram's reply was arrogant, yet somehow simple and pure. "He is a wimp who just happened to be my fiancée. That's all."

Somehow, that sentence brought a wistful smile on the Maou's lips, nearing to sadness and regret. Wolfram blinked, yet in the next second the Maou's expression had changed into his usual unreadable one.

"Who are you to me?" Wolfram whispered, curious, yet somehow feeling odd toward the boy who just kept playing with his hair.

"Just a very good friend of yours."

That reply brought a fresh stab of pain on both boys' heart. Not that they knew why.

**XXX**

_**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**_

**I badly need a suggestion for the Maou's name. So, if you have any suggestion, tell me straight away or I'll use the name Seigi (Justice in Japanese). BTW, anybody knows what is justice in German? I might use it as the Maou's name.**

**XXX**

**Both YuuRam and OuRam are here. The characters are OOC, there are some mistakes (maybe), and I am starting to…what? Like writing fluff? Gods, I think I'm going crazy….**

**See you in the next chapter! If you review, the next one can be up today or tomorrow!**

_Aqua Alta_


	4. The Good Friend and the Fiancee

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**For my reviewers, thanks so much for your support! This is the point where all the characters begin to doubt their own feelings. I hope I can capture their feelings right (winces). The Maou is the hardest of all, but he is the coolest, so (shrugs) I won't mind, will I?**

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

_CHAPTER 3: THE GOOD FRIEND AND THE FIANCÉE_

"_Just a very good friend of yours."_

He pondered upon the sentence, poking on his soup restlessly. Why would such a simple sentence bother him this much? His hunger was lost somewhere within him, and he reluctantly recalled how awkward the end of their conversation was.

_He had stood up, releasing himself from the other boy's embrace. "The wimp will be waiting for us," he said shakily, starting to make his way toward the door, his heart partly wishing for the other boy to stop him, to do something, anything._

_Yet he walked out of the door without any disturbance at all._

Giving the soup a last furious poke, he looked up from his bowl, signing that he surrendered his attempts to eat. The wimp glanced at his sudden act, and immediately said for the entire table to hear. "Wolfram! Why aren't you eating your soup? Don't you like it? Perhaps the cook can give you something else…."

From his left, he could hear Greta's giggles. He snorted, trying to save whatever was left from his pride. "I can take care of myself, wimp!" he said, giving Yuuri a well-deserved thwack on the head.

While the young King was busy protesting and rubbing his head, his emerald eyes caught the sight of the Maou, eating his soup silently, yet with dark eyes fixed on him. He shuddered, feeling the intensity of the gaze, noticing the slight frown on the Maou's brows. Was that concern he saw?

He sat back on his seat, slightly realizing that his daughter was already busy chatting happily with Conrad. Gwendal was there, at the other end of the table, dark blue eyes fixed on the figure of the Maou with slight suspicion. Gunther was sitting right next to the Maou, trying to engage the latter one in a polite conversation. The Great Sage was eating his dinner in slight amusement, eyes forever trailing A small pang of jealousy rose within his heart. He frowned. Why would he be jealous because of seeing Gunther trying to approach the Maou?

"_Just a very good friend of yours."_

It was what he expected, wasn't it? A good friend. Nothing less from the Maou.

Did he except for something more?

"Wolfram, you really have to eat!"

He shook his head wearily, a small smile forming on his lips, a genuine smile this time. Not now. Even though it was the Maou, this particular issue was impossible. He had a fiancée to take care, a fiancée who was also a wimp, by the way.

A wimp he loved so much whom he would gladly shed his tears every night for.

**XXX**

He watched the changes on Wolfram's expression with mild amusement. _'Ho boy, this is getting interesting, isn't it?'_ he mused, grinning inwardly. _'First, there is a couple in need of matchmaking. Wolfram's brother and his adoptive daughter. What a couple.'_ He snickered, barely containing himself. _'Then, there is the potential love triangle between Shibuya, Maou, and Wolfram. That is if Shibuya managed to realize his own feelings before that Maou snatches Wolfram.'_

"What do you say about that particular problem, Great Sage?"

He turned at Gunther, who was staring at him with expecting eyes. "What was that again?" he asked sheepishly, smiling. "Sorry, Gunther. I didn't catch that one."

The lavender-haired man immediately replied, "It is about the naming of the Maou, geika. Maou-sama is no longer sharing a body with Yuuri heika, therefore I think it is appropriate to search for a name for Maou-sama, isn't it?" There was a dreamy sigh. "The name will represent Maou-sama, the counterpart of Yuuri heika. If Yuuri heika is famous for his passionate acts toward the others, then Maou-sama will be known as the great being of justice!"

Murata coughed into his hands, attempting to hide his snickers. "Eh, Gunther, surely the Maou can choose his own name as he likes it," he reasoned, and Gunther immediately looked downcast. He sighed, massaging his temples, yet then catching the Maou looking at him with…was that interest in his eyes?

He grinned cheerfully at the powerful being, and somehow he could discern the faint smirk on the Maou's lips.

'_Hell,'_ he thought, still grinning. _'Who says that getting friendly with the Maou is not easy?'_

**XXX**

Pale skin. Golden hair, nearing to platinum blond. Deep emerald eyes.

He sighed, staring at his own reflection on the surface of the water. The lavender-and-mint-scented water. Somehow, he found himself getting addicted with that incense.

Usually he had asked the maids to use the jasmine and orchid one, and occasionally the rose one. Yuuri smelled like jasmine and orchid, and he tried to preserve that scent by using the incense in the bath. Sometimes he used rose, just to remind himself of his mother. He always found rose as the perfect scent to personify Lady Celi. Alluring, seductive, and beautiful.

But now….

Lavender and mint. He found the scent bringing peace to his heart. It soothed him, as if embracing him, enveloping him in the sweet and fresh scent. Just like being in the Maou's embrace.

He had assured himself that he was not cheating on Yuuri. No, the Maou was just a friend. A very good friend that took care of him, that pampered him, that soothed him when he cried. Nearly like his older brothers, yet this one is more affectionate, and somehow always managed to bring bliss into his heart, easily lulling him into a blissful state. Just a person he needed second to the most right now. But not someone whom he would love. A friend, helping him through all his troubles to gain what he needed the most: love.

Love. From Yuuri.

True, at first he grudged the sheepish black-haired boy. He despised it when boys flocked him just because of his looks, thinking that he was a girl. How many times had a boy asked him to go out for a date, yet immediately left him when he said that he was actually a male?

Sometimes he hated being his mother's son. His mother was simply too beautiful to be true. His two brothers were simply fine with their looks, then why him?

"You look like Shin'ou more than me, Wolf," his mother often teased.

A bad thing that Shin'ou had the looks of a perfect bishounen.

Then there was Yuuri's unexpected proposal. And—damn it—why did that clueless wimp have to say that he would not take that slap back?! He had hated him for that, for taking him as a fiancée, just because of an accident nonetheless! Yet he never expected himself to begin liking the Soukoku, more even to fall for him.

Surely Yuuri would have liked him more, perhaps even fallen in love with him, if he had been a girl.

Sighing deeply, he dove underwater, closing his eyes, then just let the water push him afloat again. The water was warm, nearing to hot, almost like the Maou, its touches tender and soft against his skin….

"Wolfram?"

He inhaled quite a lot of water before finally he could get back to the surface, spluttering and coughing like mad, emerald eyes wide in panic. Two strong hands lifted him up, out of the water. The pull on his right arm was slightly stronger than the left, and he wondered whether there were two people watching this embarrassing episode.

He, Wolfram von Bielefeld, just nearly drowned in the royal bath.

"Gods, are you okay, Wolf?" a panicked voice asked, followed with a dark chuckle behind. He laid down on the stone floor, gasping for oxygen, eyes still closed. He blinked finally, trying to clear his hazy sight.

And, for Shin'ou's sake, perhaps it was better for him to just drown in the royal bath.

**XXX**

Yuuri watched the boy who was lying on the stone floor closely, concern claiming his whole mind. Did Wolfram plan to drown himself in the royal bath? Or was it purely an accident?

He shivered without realizing. He simply could not imagine why Wolfram would kill himself. No, that was impossible. Wolfram was strong. A strong and fiery soldier. None could defeat his spirit.

"_Wolfram, have you ever cried?"_

_The question was simple and pure, yet it left Wolfram stunned on his spot, eyes wide and mouth agape, finding himself at loss of words. "Yes," he finally replied harshly. "Yes, I have. For many times."_

Suddenly his heart and mind seemed to freeze at that particular memory.

Had that reply been genuine?

He shook the scene out of his head, realizing that it was not the right time for it. The Maou was crouching next to Wolfram, and suddenly he was painfully aware that Wolfram (actually, all of them were) was only clad in a towel.

The Maou and Wolfram. The Maou's dark features and Wolfram's pale ones. He noted, icily, how the two looked good together.

He could not help himself from being suspicious, he told himself. Hell, that man had kidnapped Wolfram once right under his very nose!

The Maou supported Wolfram so that the latter was sitting up, still coughing water from his lungs. "Little wolf, are you okay?" The voice, which he had known before as the voice that shouted indifferent justice, now sounded warm, and he could hear the hidden concern within it. There was a nod from Wolfram, and he let out a breath he had—unconsciously—been holding.

"Mou, Wolfram, how could you drown in the bath?" he asked, pouting, patting the blonde's back.

Several coughs were his only reply, with a muffled "Take care of your own business, wimp!" inserted somewhere between those coughs.

"Don't call me a wimp!" he immediately countered hotly in reflex.

Wolfram only coughed more, and when the blonde prince looked up, his eyes were glassy from the force. Another fit of coughs, and soon the mazoku soldier's lithe body was shaking uncontrollably.

He immediately frowned in concern, crouching beside Wolfram, copying the Maou's previous act. "What's the matter, Wolf?" he asked, rubbing the blonde boy's back harder. Wolfram surely did not look fine, and he realized that the mazoku prince was more fragile than what he let the others see.

"Water…in my lungs…."

"How much water did you inhale actually?" Yuuri questioned, half-joking, trying to ease the blonde's pain. His eyes caught the Maou, whose eyes were closed and brows knitted in deep concentration. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously at the latter, still rubbing Wolfram's back, who was still coughing restlessly.

A spark wandered from the Maou's hand, which was holding Wolfram's own. The spark traveled through Wolfram's arm, then to his nose, mouth, and then torso. Before Yuuri could do anything, say anything, suddenly Wolfram coughed, once, hard.

Al the water Wolfram had previously inhaled went out, spluttering out from the blonde's mouth, leaving Wolfram panting and gasping. Wolfram blinked, then stared at the two boys, who were still watching him intently. A small smile spread on lips, and he whispered a hazy "Thank you" before falling into unconsciousness.

**XXX**

"How could Wolfram faint so easily just because of water in his lungs?"

He raised an eyebrow at this question. "Shibuya, what element Wolfram possesses?" he asked, eyes fixed straight at the hallway ahead. It was unlikely for him to trip, but with the blonde still sleeping peacefully in his arms, cuddling onto his chest like a small kitten, he was not willing to take the risk.

"Uh, fire?"

"What defeats fire?"

"Mm, water?"

He kept silent, not giving any response, letting the sentence sink into Shibuya's (dense) brain. "Oh," Shibuya said grimly after a few seconds. "That explains it."

An awkward silence kicked in, and he was surprised when Shibuya spoke out his next question. "Did you wonder…whether Wolfram's accident was purely an accident or not?"

He turned his gaze toward the boy icily. "I do not think that Wolfram would take such drastic measure to drown himself, if that were what you were thinking, Shibuya," he replied coolly, before setting his eyes ahead once again.

A relieved sigh from his companion. His gaze fell on the boy in his arms. _'Shibuya and little wolf….'_

This was an assignment. He was not supposed to be involved much further with his own feelings.

Yet he could not help himself. His cold composure was gone in front of those deep emerald eyes. All his rational thoughts simply fled out of the door whenever the blonde was around. And, damn it, he, the Maou, was simply unable to stop himself from not caressing Wolfram's pale skin.

Or, was it simply because he did not wish to stop?

Shin'ou would not be happy when he heard this. He did not worry about that particular matter. Shin'ou knew that he, the Maou, could defeat Shin'ou if he had wanted to. Yet Shin'ou could grant him something he could not do all by himself, and in return, the Shin'ou had asked him to do a task for him. The deal was agreed by the two parties, and here he was.

Wolfram snuggled deeper into his chest, and murmured something incomprehensible in his sleep. A smile tugged on his lips. Right now, he decided, he would just live the moment, and wait 'till his time ran up.

What would come next would be left in the hands of Fate.

**XXX**

Wolfram woke up, feeling hazy and oddly comfortable. The scent that was surrounding him was a unique mixture of jasmine, orchid, lavender, and mint. A weight was draped over his waist, and he opened his eyes, finding himself clad in one set of Yuuri's pajamas and the dozing King's arm settling comfortably on his waist.

His immediate and first reaction was to blush.

He smiled, not holding back his smile this time. He liked it, moments where Yuuri was sleeping, with no one to see as his mask crumbled, showing his true, fragile form beneath. The weight that usually settled on his mind, forever there, for once was gone, replaced by fragile bliss. Bliss that would be gone once he woke up in the next morning.

Slowly, careful not to wake Yuuri up, he pushed the boy's arm off his waist, and sat up, eyes fixed on the looming moon outside the balcony. He stood up, approaching the balcony ever so silently, the pale moonlight basking his whole form.

He leaned on the cold railing, just like what he had done last night. He could not help but smile at the memory. Memory of the Maou.

His 'good friend'.

Who was currently standing on the balcony next to the one he was standing on.

"Little wolf," the Maou acknowledged him, shoulder-length hair whipping in the strong night wind, deep eyes with slanted pupils of a cat staring into his own emerald depths. He smiled uncertainly, yet not uncomfortably. Somehow, he did not mind the pet name the Maou had given him.

The two balconies were separated less than two feet away. The Maou extended a hand toward him, which he accepted with a confused look on his face. Surely he did not expect him to….

"Jump." His mind obeyed the order with no further thought, as if his feet had been moving by their own will. He climbed onto the railing, and the Maou hoisted him onto the balcony where the great being was currently standing on. The Maou immediately pulled him into his own room (which was next to the King's chamber), and forced him to seat on his bed.

"Sit." Again, he obeyed silently, wondering what the hell the Maou was up to.

His eyes widened when he saw what the Maou had on his hands.

**XXX**

**Cliffhanger! Can't believe I made that! So what? Next chapter: OuRam fluff at the first part and YuuRam fluff for the second part (that is if I managed to write fluff). Before you go, why don't you press that little button below which has a text 'Submit Review' next to it?**

**See you in the next chapter!**

_Aqua Alta_


	5. Whispers of Night

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for the delay! My family went out and spent the day in the mall, and I couldn't refuse, can I? BTW, the faster you get me the Maou's name, the faster the fifth chapter will come out **

**Thanks so much for Mizuki hikari, GaLe AyA, and Sayoko Bizen for helping me with the Maou's name! **

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

**XXX**

_**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**_

**For Maou's name, I'll hand it to you, reviewers! Vote for the name you like the best! (BTW, two names, please. 'Cause I want the Maou to have the surname too. Actually, I like Recht Seif or perhaps Seif Recht, but the other names are simply too good to be ignored! Choose, reviewers! )**

_Kisho (one who knows his own mind)_

_Masato (the Japanese for justice)_

_Seigi (the Japanese for justice)_

_Hisoka (secretive, reserved)_

_Kazu (peace)_

_Raiden (name of the thunder god)_

_Nay (highness and grace)_

_Seif (Sword of Religion)_

_Recht (the German for justice)_

**Don't forget to review and vote soon! 'Cause I badly want to use the Maou's name!**

**XXX**

_CHAPTER 4: WHISPERS OF NIGHT_

His eyes widened upon seeing what the Maou brought him. "But, that is…," he whispered, finding himself at loss of words for a minute or so. It would have not been such a surprise if it had been Yuuri who had done this, yet to see the Maou….

The Maou crossed the room in matter of seconds. His strides were always long and determined, just as what Wolfram had noticed. The strength beneath the Maou's figure was barely hidden, even though the Maou was no bulkier than him or Yuuri. Slim figure, strong muscles, yet definitely not bulky at all. Unlike Yozak, perhaps.

He could feel it even though he could barely see it through the darkness of the room, the gaze the Maou sent him. Warm, strong, affectionate, somehow filled with such desire that it hurt. Such longing and barely containable despair. The air in the room was thick with those feelings, as if unspoken words had been inserting themselves in the forms of feelings into Wolfram. There was something hidden here, a secret, lined with regret. Then there was something that felt like…affection? Warmth? Love?

Toward him?

The doubt and uncertainty hung there like thick fog, easily lulling, disconcerting. He barely sensed the movements on the bed, created when the Mou sat down next to him on the bed. The tray the Maou had been holding, heavily laden with dinner, was put down between them. Wolfram stared at the tray through the darkness, mouth agape, then back at the Maou again. "This is…," he croaked in a futile attempt to speak out a full sentence. "…Why…?"

A dark chuckle from the Maou caused him to blush furiously. "What are you laughing at?" he blurted in annoyance, not looking at the Maou, finally able to find his voice again. The embarrassment he felt, feeling childish and mortified because he knew that the Maou _knew_ he had eaten nothing at dinner, then again being cared like this, having someone that held true concern for him….

The Maou's calloused yet tender fingers grasped his chin, the act forever soft and slow, as if afraid to hurt him. The dark-haired boy tipped his chin up, slightly forcing him to look at him. "You did not eat anything at dinner, did you, little wolf?" the Maou asked huskily, lips oh so close from his face that he could feel the other boy's warm breath on his skin. He shivered involuntarily, earning another chuckle. He pouted, and this time, the Maou laughed.

Laughed.

His eyes widened in the instance when he heard the laugh. It was brief, yet melodious; warm, soft, a genuine expression of pure amusement and happiness. Yet it sounded distant and fragile, as if one disturbance and it would be gone for good. As warm as a crystal, yet somehow even more brittle than glass.

Hidden grief. Deep regret.

The Maou had seemed untouchable since long, a great being far beyond his reach, or anyone's reach. Yet now he understood. He saw. He heard.

Moreover, he felt it.

The loneliness in the Maou's features…what he had assumed as cold rage now appeared to him as a deep longing of something that he could not comprehend. What desire was it that even he could feel it, so much that it pained his heart? So deep, as if calling out desperately…

…for him?

'_Yuuri….'_

If only the person in front of him had been Yuuri….

The Maou picked up a bowl from the tray, then a spoon. He stared blankly at the bowl—filled with soup—in the Maou's hand, then warily at the spoon. "I can eat by myself," he stated simply, not fully trusting his voice.

A kiss upon his forehead. He blushed, and suddenly found himself unable to resist.

Suddenly, he understood.

The Maou was not Yuuri. Yet somehow, he did not mind about that.

Quite the opposite. And it bothered him.

'_Just live the moment,'_ he told himself. _'Just live the moment.'_

**XXX**

The Maou pulled him closer so that he was sitting across the Maou's lap, head tucked on the crook of the other boy's neck, his ear placed just right on the Maou's heart. He could hear it, the soft and steady beating through the fabric of the thin white shirt the Maou wore. The scent of lavender and mint enveloped him in the instant he was in the Maou's embrace. Lulling him into another state of incomprehensible bliss.

"Little wolf."

The Maou was holding a spoonful of soup, eyes expectant and…warm? He opened his mouth, about to protest, yet the Maou took it as a chance, silencing his words by feeding him the soup.

The soup was warm liquid, the comfortable warmth spreading through his whole throat, then body. He relaxed immediately, closing his eyes in content as the soup filled his empty stomach. "It's good…," he whispered, smiling.

His only reply was another spoonful of warm soup.

**XXX**

He rubbed his eyes wearily, noticing absent-mindedly that something was wrong, so wrong, yet somehow he could not find it out.

Oh yeah. Wolfram was not there.

'_Okay, Wolfram is not here,'_ he repeated the sentence in his mind, curling into a ball, ready to fall asleep again, right when the meaning of the sentence sunk in.

'_WOLFRAM is not here!'_

He roamed his hands over Wolfram's side of the bed, noting that it was starting to turn cold. Wolfram had gone for some time, but where?

'_Why should I care?'_ a part of him whispered, and he froze. _'It is good not to be kicked and punched while sleeping once in a while.'_

'_But Wolfram is not here,'_ he argued. _'He might have been kidnapped.'_

"Shibuya."

He knew that voice.

He turned, eyes blazing with rage. "You!" he shouted, jabbing an accusing finger at the intruder a.k.a. the Maou. "Where is Wolfram?!"

His gaze fell down onto the burden in the Maou's hands. There, sleeping peacefully and curling in a ball like a dozing kitten, was his fiancée, still clad in his usual pink nightgown. He jumped out of his bed instantly, gritting his teeth. "What did you do to my fiancée?!" he demanded, positively mad this time.

The Maou was still standing on his position, on the balcony, basked by the moonlight. He seemed to be shining in his own light, which might be true in Yuuri's opinion. Somehow, the Maou looked more intimidating than ever, with serene eyes and the wind ruffling his hair slightly. There was power within him, power which even Yuuri could sense.

Then came the reply, as cold as the night breeze, stabbing straight into Yuuri's inner core. "I took care of him," the Maou said simply. "Something you should have done instead of me in your place."

There it was. He stared at the Maou, mouth agape, trying to find back his voice and rational mind. "But…," he spluttered in protest, trying to save what he believed since long. "Wolfram _hates_ it when people start to take care of him! He can take care of himself!"

The Maou strode past him, into his room, ignoring his yells and shouts. Slowly, the Maou placed a kiss on Wolfram's forehead, in the same time lowering the blonde onto his side of bed. Yuuri stood frozen on his spot, watching the whole ordeal happen in front of him.

He heard the whimper Wolfram emitted when the Maou finally released the boy, however.

The Maou, still standing next to the bed, eyes fixed on the sleeping prince, asked in a low, thundering voice, "How do you describe Wolfram, Shibuya?"

He was quite taken aback with the question. "Eh, he is arrogant, bad-tempered, protective, string…." A scratch of the head. "Has strange taste of painting, sometimes dangerous, overly jealous, and—what the hell—beautiful?"

There was a fragile silence afterward, until finally Yuuri asked back, "How do _you_ describe him, actually?"

The Maou turned at him, gaze suddenly mellow and…warm? "…Fragile," the Maou stated, voice low and husky. "He is stubborn, yet his heart is brittle. He hates his own vulnerability, thus he hides under the mask of a bad-tempered and spoilt prince. He acts strong, yet he cries out for affection. What do you say now, Shibuya?"

The question was slow, mild, without any hidden intention, yet Yuuri shivered from the emotions it contained. Emotions he failed to comprehend. "You're lying," he said, shaking his head forcefully, trying to shake out all doubts that were beginning to grow deep in the pit of his heart. "You don't know Wolfram."

Rage, the cold rage of the Maou, flitted in the Maou's eyes, and when the Maou spoke, he heard thunder roaring off somewhere. "Do you think you know him, Shibuya?!" the Maou thundered in his husky baritone. "Once I resided in your body, and I saw what you missed so easily. Can't you see what your own fiancée is hiding?!"

Both boys were taken aback by the sentence. The Maou averted his eyes, and somehow Yuuri had the impression that the Maou was no different from him in some parts. They were both just boys, no matter what their positions were and the power they had. And they wanted to protect Wolfram.

The Maou strode purposefully past him, toward the balcony. Yuuri caught his hand just in time. "Wait," the boy called, nearly in panic. "What should I do?"

The Maou looked at him, somehow with eyes fuelled by sad bitterness. "Take care of him," the Maou whispered. Then he was gone through the balcony.

Yuuri stared at the spot where the Maou had been standing, eyes wide in slight shock and confusion.

'_Were those tears in his eyes?'_

**XXX**

Wolfram woke up feeling very comfortable. Unsettlingly comfortable, actually.

He sniffed the air. _'Jasmine and orchid,'_ he mused idly. That was when he was aware of a pair of arms, embracing him from behind, warmly, tightly, almost as if afraid to let go. The person's head was settling comfortably on the crook of his neck, the warm breath on his skin causing him to feel light-headed and yet….

"Yuuri?" he asked tentatively, half afraid to wake the other boy up, yet the other half wanting for the boy to wake up and just look at him.

Onyx black eyes fluttered open, and Yuuri whispered into his ear from his position. "Wolf…."

All he could do was blush.

There was a choked sob, and his emerald green eyes widened impossibly large. "Wimp, what are you…."

"Sorry, Wolf," Yuuri whispered. "So sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry…." He was aware now of the tears sliding on to his shoulder, warm liquid falling from Yuuri's eyes. Unsure what to do, he gripped Yuuri's arms that were encircling him.

"You do nothing wrong," he forced himself to say, voice flat.

"Everything I did was wrong!" Yuuri suddenly whispered harshly, making him wince. "What are you hiding, Wolf? Why don't you let me know if something is wrong? If something bothers you? Why do you have to shut yourself away?"

Cold realization dawned upon him. "You have talked to the Maou." It was a statement, not a question.

A nod.

Wolfram sighed. "Showing your vulnerability to other people is a sign of weakness," Wolfram reasoned in cold resolution. He laughed dryly. "You are too kind, Yuuri. And the Maou is just exaggerating."

"Liar," Yuuri whispered, sobs escaping from his throat, causing Wolfram's eyes to sting and his heart to constrict painfully. "Liar! You said it yourself, Wolf. You have been crying behind me, haven't you?"

"You will not care," Wolfram pointed out, biting his lower lip, trying to restrain those damned tears from spilling.

There was a pause here, until Yuuri finally said, voice determined, warm, soothing, sending warm vibes into Wolfram's veins, "I will, Wolf. I will."

Wolfram turned so that he was facing Yuuri, his mask crumbling right in front of the King's onyx black eyes. For once, Yuuri could see the tears glistening in those emerald orbs. "Are you sure?" the blonde whispered. "Are you sure, Yuuri?"

A tear dropped. Yuuri kissed it away, and Wolfram could not help yet notice how similar the Maou and Yuuri were sometimes. Pressing his forehead to his, Yuuri whispered, smiling his smile that caused Wolfram's stomach to flutter, "I swear, Wolf."

Was it real? Even he could not determine the limit between dream and reality anymore. He was afraid, afraid that this scene would crumble right in front of his very eyes, revealing that it was nothing more than a sweet dream, so sweet that it hurt. The fear consumed his heart, slowly spreading. That doubt, that feeling….

Yuuri pulled him closer, so that he was sobbing into the boy's shirt, whispering soothing words. However, Yuuri's next sentence erased whatever doubt he had left.

"Promise me, Wolf."

"What?" he managed between his sobs and tears, trying to gain back his arrogance, yet simply could not reach it. Not now.

"Don't leave me."

He froze upon hearing that sentence, realizing what was the meaning behind it. Had Yuuri really meant it? Thoughts after thoughts piled in his mind, befuddling him, and he shook them away. He smiled. No need for thoughts. He had known the answer since a long time ago.

"I won't."

**XXX**

**There. A little short, isn't it? And OOC too (especially Yuuri and Maou's parts)! Well, yay or nay? Review everyone! And don't forget to vote! The next chapter will be up today or tomorrow.**

_Aqua Alta_


	6. Shadow of Doubt, Light of Hope

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**Here you go! A new chapter! It is more focused on Conrad x Greta. What the heck, Conrad is really such a trouble to describe. Enjoy!**

**Thanks for all my reviewers! This story is for you!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

**XXX**

_**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**_

**The result for the vote:**

**Kazu: 1**

**Masato Seigi/Seigi: 2**

**Seif Recht/Seif/Recht: 3**

**Hisoka Raitei: 1**

**Since it is impossible to use all of the names, I have to pick two of them. I'm sorry for the ones who prefer the other names (bows deeply)! Some spoiler here: Yuuri will give the Maou a name (in Japanese), yet Wolfram (and his taste…remember Liswell and Pochi? This is just like that case) decides to give the Maou a name of his own. So…it will be a confusing bundle. That's all I can say (shrugs). Ah, you know what always happen between Yuuri and Wolfram….**

**Thanks for reading!**

**XXX**

_CHAPTER 5: SHADOW OF DOUBT, LIGHT OF HOPE_

_The scenery around him was hazy, fog drifting here and there, each step he took bringing new scent and feeling. He was floating in the air, and whenever he looked down what he saw was swirling masses of white fog, like cotton candy. The place was warm, yet somehow the warmth was not soothing at all. _

_The warmth was…dry, empty._

_A speck of light sparkled in the distance, far away, glimmering dimly, like an ember amidst the wind. He walked, floated, toward it, willing his body to move toward it. The light expanded as he moved closer toward it, filling the whole space, blinding him for a moment._

_When he dared himself to open his eyes again, emerald green orbs blinking, he was staring on a scene he had known to well._

**_Gaze now weak, Yuuri turned at his fiancée, who seemed close to tears by then. Tears of anger, he noted. And…was it despair in his eyes?_**

"_**Wolf…," he called out, voice weary and weak. "I just want you to be safe…."**_

"_**I can take care of myself, thank you," replied the arrogant voice, yet the tone was wavering noticeably, and Yuuri was suddenly aware of how fragile Wolfram looked sometimes. The usually ever-existing rage in those emerald eyes now seemed void, blank, a mask to cover whatever was beneath. Yuuri reached out, hesitantly bringing the smaller boy closer toward him. **_

_**Then, slowly, awkwardly, he encircled his arms around the blonde's narrow waist. "Sorry, Wolf…," he whispered in regret. "I…just don't want to see you hurt."**_

_**A muffled "Wimp" was his reply, yet this time he smiled when he heard it.**_

_Wolfram's eyes widened, taking in the sight before him. 'This is…,' he thought, standing froze on his spot, only several feet away from the couple. 'This is….'_

_A creak from behind him, and he turned. The couple did not seem to notice the sound at all. He walked toward the door, which was half-opened still. He did not remember this. No, he had not noticed it at all, still in Yuuri's embrace. _

_Slowly, ever so hesitantly, he peeked outside the door, only to find the scene swirling and changing._

_The Maou suddenly was standing beside him, right at the doorway, the previous scene in the room replaying itself in front of their eyes. Wolfram reached out, trying to touch his companion, yet he went straight through him. He was about to utter a surprised yelp when he noticed the expression on the Maou's face._

_Was that grief he saw?_

_Slowly, softly, quietly, the Maou closed back the door, his dark eyes now mellow and desperate, such a yearning that Wolfram could barely stop himself from pulling the other boy into a soothing embrace._

_Suddenly, crystal drops of tears rolled down from the Maou's eyes, and he was left stunned in his spot, staring at the illusionary boy in front of him._

'_Those are…tears? Why?'_

_Then the scene in front of him went blank._

**XXX**

Wolfram woke up with a snap, emerald eyes opening in a jolt. The sky was still dark, and Yuuri's arms were still wrapped around him. _'What was that?'_ he pondered upon the hazy dream he just experienced. He tried to remember the vague pictures, fleeting words, yet they slipped off from his mind like water from his fingers.

Closing his eyes, he willed sleep to claim him once again, and was immediately drifting back to the land of dreams.

**XXX**

The door of his room creaked open in the darkness, and he woke up with a jerk, his mahogany brown hair messy yet amber eyes crystal clear and alert. His white shirt was rumpled, yet he did not care. The person at the door paused, as if sensing his awakening, hesitating at the doorway.

Finally deciding to break the tense air around them, Conrad asked warmly, "Who is there?"

The door closed, then a shuffle of feet. A timid voice replied, "It's Greta, Uncle Conrad."

All suspicion he had faded away like mist, and concern—accompanied by genuine warmth—claimed him. "Greta," he called softly. "Come here. Why are you awake in the middle of the night?"

A pause, then a weight settled next to him, the warmth cuddling to his side. He stroked the girl's hair, toying with the reddish brown strands. "I can't sleep," Greta whispered truthfully, big brown eyes staring into Conrad's own amidst the darkness of the room. "I'm still afraid that you might die."

Conrad's hand stopped stroking for a moment out of shock, yet in the next second Greta was rewarded by a warm chuckle. "The Maou is a good man," Conrad assured her, fingers combing her shoulder-length hair. "Everything has been cleared. He doesn't hurt anybody, right? He just rendered the guards unconscious, that's all."

"But…when he was about to shoot you…."

"It was just a barrier. It has been confirmed."

A smile spread on Greta's lips, and his chest immediately felt warm. "Thank you for worrying about me," he said softly, ruffling Greta's hair. Greta rewarded him by placing a peck on his cheek. He laughed. "Now, would you like Uncle Conrad to sing a lullaby for you?"

Greta gave him her infamous puppy-dog eyes, causing him to smile in the instant. The plead was still effective even with the darkness surrounding them. "Only if Uncle Conrad allows me to sing a lullaby for you too."

Conrad smiled. "Then, Uncle Conrad will sing first," he said. Greta snuggled deeper to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"_Winter is coming, and the snow is falling everywhere_

_The cold that bites the skin is grief_

_I pray for the warmth of joy to come and claim me_

_May spring come and bring light to all people alike_

_Autumn is coming, and the leaves are fluttering down_

_The dry leaves are my fallen tears_

_I wish for the bright summer to come and take me_

_May summer arrive and deliver happiness to all people alike_

_Your smile is the sunlight, your laugh is the blessing rain_

_I take you into an embrace, and let's fly to the sky_

_Say my name, and I'll spread light all over the world_

_Once upon a dream…_

_I am walking on the hectic street, busy people around_

_The clouds that hang above are bitterness_

_I need the refreshing rain to fall and lull me once again_

_May the sacred rain fall and bring peace to all people alike_

_Your smile is the sunlight, your laugh is the blessing rain_

_I take you into an embrace, and let's fly to the sky_

_Say my name, and I'll spread light all over the world_

_Once upon a dream…_

_If this is a dream, then don't wake me up_

_Let me stay within your embrace _

_In this eternal sweet dream_

_Your smile is the sunlight, your laugh is the blessing rain_

_I take you into an embrace, and let's fly to the sky_

_Say my name, and I'll spread light all over the world_

_Once upon a dream…"_

Conrad sighed, ending his song. He turned toward the young royal in his arms, feeling his heart flutter uncharacteristically when he saw the pair of glittering innocent deep chocolate eyes. "Your turn, Princess," he said, teasing the teenage girl who giggled before finally opening her mouth and sang.

He was left stunned on his spot, listening to the words the girl wove across the night, the clear and sweet voice drifting along with the night breeze.

"_Somewhere far away, in the land of dreams_

_I dream of you while sleeping on my bed here_

_And one day I lit up a small light of hope in my heart_

_In the swirling river of tears of happiness and joy_

_I see your reflection there from a window_

_And one day I dare to smile to you in a different way_

_Say that you love me, not just as friends_

_Then let all circumstances change_

_Lit an eternal fire in my heart and let it burn all the time_

_Somewhere in the land of dreams_

_In a time in the future, I see both of us standing_

_I try to grasp the illusion from the 'now'_

_And one day I pick myself up and tell you my feelings_

_Say that you love me, not just as friends_

_Then let all circumstances change_

_Lit an eternal fire in my heart and let it burn all the time_

_Somewhere in the land of dreams_

_Dream me away from that place of yours_

_And I'll wish the hardest to an angel's feather_

_So that you…_

_Say that you love me, not just as friends_

_Then let all circumstances change_

_Lit an eternal fire in my heart and let it burn all the time_

_Somewhere in the land of dreams"_

The last words faded into silence, and after several stunned moments, Conrad looked down at the princess lying next to him, only to find the latter already dozing peacefully, a small smile playing on her soft lips. He kissed her forehead tenderly, relishing how soft her skin was.

'_Forgive me,'_ he whispered inwardly, unsure why he would say that. However, the feeling in his heart was not about to go unnoticed, the warm feeling, the need to protect her with all his life and heart…. If for his King he would give his body and life, for his Princess he would give his body, life, soul, and heart.

Tightening his embrace on the thirteen-year-old girl, Conrad Weller drifted to the land of dreams.

_Lit an eternal fire in my heart and let it burn all the time_

_Somewhere in the land of dreams…_

**XXX**

Warm. That was how he could describe the feeling waking up deep within him. And also his surroundings.

He was sure that he was dreaming. Everything seemed to be covered with fog, the air misty and moist. It was soothing actually, to be alone in the nowhere, knowing that he could not hurt anybody else, and nobody could hurt him.

Yet the pain in his heart simply refused to go away.

Tresses of golden hair, soft and wavy under his touch…. Pale and smooth skin, shivering as he tenderly stroked it…. Silver tears, falling from flushed cheeks, a sign of despair and yearning for affection…. Deep emerald eyes, glimmering in the dark, crystal tears causing them to sparkle like a pair of real emeralds….

'_Little wolf….'_

His chest constricted itself painfully, and he could do nothing to prevent it.

He was pathetic, and he knew it.

Voices, he heard voices. From behind the oak door, leading to the King's chamber. The scene in front of him….

_Gaze now weak, Shibuya turned at his fiancée, who seemed close to tears by then. Tears of anger, Shibuya noted. And…was it despair in his eyes?_

"_Wolf…," Shibuya called out, voice weary and weak. "I just want you to be safe…."_

"_I can take care of myself, thank you," replied the arrogant voice, yet the tone was wavering noticeably, and Shibuya was suddenly aware of how fragile Wolfram looked sometimes. The usually ever-existing rage in those emerald eyes now seemed void, blank, a mask to cover whatever was beneath. Shibuya reached out, hesitantly bringing the smaller boy closer toward him. _

_Then, slowly, awkwardly, the young King encircled his arms around the blonde's narrow waist. "Sorry, Wolf…," Shibuya whispered in regret. "I…just don't want to see you hurt."_

_A muffled "Wimp" was his reply, yet this time Shibuya smiled when he heard it._

Unknown to the couple, he heard it, saw it all, and he knew.

_Damn Shin'ou and his ambition for another life!_

_Slowly, he could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, and there was nobody there to comfort him. _

_He, the Maou, one of the strongest beings in the whole world, suddenly found himself pathetic in front of a small feeling, and a lithe prince with deep emerald eyes._

He shook his head furiously, trying to shake those scenes off his head, desperately trying to regain his cold composure. None, he noticed. He had none. He had nothing left within him.

Without Wolfram, he was just an empty shell.

Never before he doubted himself. His previous decisions merely involved justice, and he had—without any hesitation—took even the hardest decision with determined heart. He never stopped for a doubt, never stopped to rethink about his own feelings, simply letting the cold rage he had been familiar with claim him, control him. Justice. It satisfied him, seeing how justice was done.

Yet now, he felt helpless, hanging by a mere thread of illusion he held so dearly, the yearning in his chest pressing and pushing so much that it hurt, that he could barely contain it. He knew, yet he simply could not stop himself from feeling it.

Wolfram was never meant to be his.

Wolfram was meant to be on Shibuya's side. He had known it since the very first time he laid his eyes upon the arrogant blonde prince. He had seen through Yuuri's eyes all the things the prince had managed to hide so well from his accidental fiancée, the vulnerable character behind the selfish exterior he had sported so well.

Yet nothing could deceive his eyes.

He had watched and done nothing, simply listening to Wolfram's sobs at night and staring at the tears the blonde shed from deep within the dozing Shibuya. He realized, and finally knew, what Wolfram was hiding all the time.

All that pain.

Once again, he found his tears rolling down his own cheeks, all against his control. He let out a scream, clutching himself, trying to soothe the pain away. The hurt ate him alive, the yearning, such desire, tearing him piece by piece from the inside.

'_Little wolf…'_

Wolfram's words echoed in his mind, again and again, the words spoken softly yet with such emotions.

"_Who are you to me?"_

He was….

The scene changed bloody red, and in his hands, there lay Wolfram, blood trickling down from his whole form, emerald eyes staring to the red sky blankly….

"WOLFRAM!"

**XXX**

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. He was sitting upward on his bed, one arm outstretched as if reaching out to grasp something, someone. The name he shouted…. That name….

"_One's power will be pulled out truly when one loses someone the most precious."_

'_Damn you, Shin'ou! What alternative is that?! If something fails…. If Shibuya's love on little wolf is not strong enough….'_

Then….

The alternative was way too painful, too unbearable. Therefore, he simply could not fail.

Even though he had to sacrifice his own feelings.

Without realizing, drops of tears fell down from his eyes, onto the white sheets of his bed.

'_Wolfram….'_

**XXX**

**Yeah, I know the Maou is painfully OOC, but hell, he is one tough guy to be written! I surrender! It's all up to you! Yay or nay?**

**Next chapter will be out soon!**

_Aqua Alta_


	7. Protection

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**New chapter…. This one is OOC and strange. Don't say I haven't warned you, folks! Contain some silly humor and all pairings (YuuRam, OuRam, Conrad x Greta). Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

_CHAPTER 6: PROTECTION_

_He was back in a dream, and he knew it. Unlike his previous dream, his surroundings were dark, haunting, a sign of death in a living world. His eyes narrowed in alert. _

_He knew where he was._

"_Come out here and face me, Shin'ou," he growled, balling his fists and let his majutsu stream to his fists, making them glow bright blue in the middle of darkness. Power he had, and power he would use. A fight with the Original King would be a good exercise._

_A figure materialized in front of him, and he found his power growing weak with each feature that came clearer in front of his very eyes. He could not deny it, no matter how hard he wished, that Shin'ou and Wolfram were two people alike. The same arrogant eyes, deep, demanding. The vulnerability and loneliness the two hid inside. They were a pair of lone wolves. The exact golden locks, soft in the wind. The pale skin, so pale that it looked as if glowing in its own light. The same tone that portrayed the look in their eyes. The same triumphant smirk. If only Shin'ou's eyes were emerald instead of amethyst and he had been younger, the Maou felt sure he would call Shin'ou as Wolfram instead._

_Shin'ou gave him a casual smirk, and he frowned. "Don't play around with me, Shin'ou," he thundered, the power surging back into his whole form. "What do you want now? It has to be damn important that forces you to visit me in a dream."_

_Shin'ou sighed, staring at the Maou straight in the eyes. "This is about your mission," he said, the ancient voice smooth yet somehow sending shivers down one's spine. A playful frown appeared on the blonde's brows. "I don't mind if you start to have feelings to my darling descendant, since it will cause your actions to be more natural, yet if you plan to stop my plan, that is I cannot allow."_

_The Maou hissed. "As casual as ever, aren't you?" he spat. "Both of them do not deserve the alternative."_

_Shin'ou smirked, the smirk he hated so much, he loathed with all his heart. This man…._

"_Then make sure that you succeed in putting those two together," Shin'ou whispered into his ear, leaning closer. "They say that strong means power. To me, strong means loved. Wolfram loves Yuuri, and surely I can easily take the young King's body if only you do not originate from there, hmm?" A chuckle. The Maou's body went rigid, his cat-like pupils tense and burning with hatred, hunger for avenge. "Some of your power is still left in Yuuri's body, and neither of us could dispel it. Therefore, it is hardly a chance for me to gain Yuuri."_

_The Maou averted his gaze, eyes shadowed beneath his dark bangs. He knew it, knew what was coming, yet simply could not bear to hear it now. No, not in a time like this…._

"_Your power left in Yuuri is in the form of a barrier. I decided to turn to Wolfram. Wolfram is loved by Yuuri, yet our young King simply has not realized it yet. It is your job to make Yuuri realize that he loves Wolfram, by getting him jealous. In return, you asked me a favor. A body, you say. A body apart from Yuuri. And I granted it, hmm?"_

_The torture was inevitable. He growled warningly, yet Shin'ou smirked, and he was left in his bitterness, standing there, drawing blood from his own fists that were clenched oh so tightly on his sides, so tightly that red liquid dripped from them like water from a faucet._

"_I need something from you, and you need something from me. Simple bargain, really. Without my help, you cannot gain a body of your own." A feral glint passed in Shin'ou's eyes. "Then I found out that Yuuri's barrier can be broken, if the boy releases his whole power, that is. It is even a more powerful power than love, fuelled with hatred of losing someone the most precious to him. More risky than simply gaining Wolfram's body, yet if you fail…, I am willing to take the risk."_

_The Maou sent him a look that could kill, his whole figure glowing brightly, far brighter than ever. Hatred…. It clouded his thoughts, driving him to the edge, ready to launch his whole power on the man in front of him. But he knew, knew that the figure in front of him was a mere spirit. Could not be wounded. "If you dare to hurt Wolfram…," he hissed, venom dripping from every word. "If you dare to harm him…."_

_Shin'ou gave another hearty chuckle. "Such power you have…. A poor thing you have set up a barrier around yourself. Clever," Shin'ou said, smirking at the Maou. "But, my friend, I believe you are the one who will kill him if you fail. That is written on our bargain, isn't it?" A scroll appeared between them, before vanishing, a mere illusion it was. _

"_You tricked me into that blood-pact!"_

"_You are the one who weren't careful enough. Goodbye, my friend, and don't fail."_

_With that, the Original King faded into thin air._

**XXX**

He could feel his frown deepened, and he massaged his temple slowly. He sighed. He had enough of this.

It was amazing how such a simple meeting could turn into a complicated bickering.

"Masato Seigi? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I've told you, Wolf! It mainly means justice!"

"I refuse!"

A dark chuckle emitted from the corner of the meeting room. He raised his head in the light of hope, finally finding someone that could restrain the two bickering teenagers. Conrad and Gunther had not been helping, one merely smiling while the other was rambling about Heika. "Wolfram, perhaps you could let the Maou talk," he snapped, glaring at his younger brother and the Heika.

The two teens sat down on their respective seats, still pouting. Damn, perhaps he should have taken an early pension instead.

Wolfram leaned toward the Maou, green eyes pleading. "Tell me you don't agree to that name," he said, tone still as demanding as ever. In the background, Yuuri shouted, "No fair!"

And, Heaven forbids it, the Maou simply shrugged casually.

Since when deciding a name for someone became so difficult?

Wolfram smiled in triumph. "See, he agreed with me!"

"How could shrugging means agreeing to you?!"

"SILENCE!" Gwendal thundered, finally unable to take any other from the King and his fiancée. "Be it Masato Seigi or Cat-Goes-Down-the-Hill von Dog-Chasing-Behind-It or Mr. Maou or Devil is Coming to the World or whatsoever, but for Shin'ou's sake, get out! This meeting is dismissed!"

In an instance, nobody was insight.

Humming a cheerful tune, Gwendal picked out his knitting project. _'Ah, this is what I call bliss….'_

**XXX**

"Brother is surely in a bad mood today," Wolfram said, sighing heavily as he sat down at the edge of the Maou's bed. The latter simply closed the door behind him and gave a chuckle. "You look tired, little wolf," he commented, sitting next to the prince, stroking the smaller boy's hair, savoring the softness he found.

Wolfram pouted. "That wimp is always tiring me out," he reasoned feebly, shivering under the feather-like touches. He sensed him shivering, gave another hearty chuckle, and wrapped one arm around the blonde's narrow waist, earning an inevitable yelp.

Pulling the prince so that Wolfram was sitting on his lap, he murmured into the blonde's ear, "Is that so?" The blonde's hair was still soft as ever, and his presence alone soothed him, causing him to relax.

"Perhaps you can choose a name for me?" he whispered huskily, breathing into the mop of golden strands. _'Lavender and mint…,'_ he recognized the scent immediately. _'Mixed with jasmine and orchid…'_

Wolfram shrugged, snuggling deeper into his torso. "I am thinking about a name, but it isn't that good…."

He kissed his forehead tenderly, drowning the rest of the blonde's words. "Anything, little wolf. Anything you choose. And we shall see," he said, smiling softly, ruffling the blonde's hair affectionately, warmly, giving his whole heart on his every action.

Not that Wolfram was supposed to know that.

"Seif…," Wolfram muttered hesitantly, not looking at the Maou in the eyes. "Seif Recht."

His eyes widened, just for a mere second. "Seif Recht…," he said slowly, testing the foreign name on his tongue. Foreign, but that did not mean that he did not like it. No, quite the opposite, in fact. He kissed Wolfram's cheek. "I like it, little wolf."

The blonde blushed, and the painful yearning throbbed in his heart. His grip on the blonde tightened slightly, and he swore inwardly.

'_You will not get what you want, Shin'ou. I'll see to that, even though it costs me my own life.'_

**XXX**

Yuuri found Wolfram already sleeping peacefully when he entered the King's chamber, the blonde's petite figure lying upon the bed sheets. The curtains ruffled in the night breeze, and the moon was shining in it's brightest that night, the glow basking the prince's pale features, causing him to look as if he was glowing in his own rays.

He simply could not stop the soft smile tugging on his lips.

He lied down next to Wolfram, one thousand and one questions running in his head. For instance: how could someone that was as violent as Wolfram look so peaceful at night?

However, is 'violent' truly the right word to describe Wolfram?

_Finally Yuuri asked back, "How do you describe him, actually?" _

_The Maou turned at him, gaze suddenly mellow and…warm? "…Fragile," the Maou stated, voice low and husky. "He is stubborn, yet his heart is brittle. He hates his own vulnerability, thus he hides under the mask of a bad-tempered and spoilt prince. He acts strong, yet he cries out for affection. What do you say now, Shibuya?" _

"What do I say?" Yuuri whispered, more to himself, voice strained, tone pained. What was the feeling he had whenever Wolfram was near? That mild desire, the need to protect the spoilt prince, the warmth he felt seeping through his whole body with every touch they shared, every moment they had together….

Opening his mouth slowly, hesitantly, Yuuri started to sing out a song his mother often sang while the family was gathering together. That soft melody, the lulling voice his mother had…. Somehow, the song always brought tears to his eyes and a small smile to his lips whenever he heard his mother sang it, the affection that radiated straight out from the cheerful woman with each word she sang.

"_You are as ethereal as an angel is_

_Your eyes are as deep as the ocean_

_With fire sparkling within those depths_

_You are as fragile as a piece of glass is_

_The vulnerable side you conceal _

_Deep within your stubborn soul beneath_

_One look from you, one arrogant look_

_And I will go crazy on my spot_

_Tell me that this is not what they call love_

'_Cause I am still wondering whether it is true_

_That we two are meant together_

_Drop by drop, the tears from your eyes_

_Crystal liquid running down your cheeks_

_Sacred and silver, I wipe them away_

_Piece by piece, the laughter from your lips_

_Sweet as honey, warm as sunlight_

_Slowly, I start to laugh along with you_

_One look from you, one arrogant look_

_And I will go crazy on my spot_

_Tell me that this is not what they call love_

'_Cause I am still wondering whether it is true_

_That we two are meant together_

_Don't let go of me_

_I try to tell myself that I don't want you_

_But whatever this is, don't let go_

_I don't want this feeling to disappear_

_One look from you, one arrogant look_

_And I will go crazy on my spot_

_Tell me that this is not what they call love_

'_Cause I am still wondering whether it is true_

_That we two are meant together"_

"Yuuri…."

The mumble caught his ears, and his heart gave a lurch. He whipped his head t the direction of the sleeping blonde, yet the latter was still fast asleep, lips parted slightly, a small smile playing on those same lips.

Sighing in unknown affection, even to himself, Yuuri wrapped his arms around Wolfram.

…_I am still wondering whether it is true_

_That we two are meant together…_

**XXX**

He was taking his round, checking that all the hallways were empty. His amber eyes, warm, concealing the alertness it held. Yuuri had just retreated to his own room, and he noted—amusedly—how in this late couple of days the King and his younger brother had gotten somewhat…closer.

Sure, the two still bickered and mocked each other as ever, but there was something different in Wolfram's eyes and Yuuri's eyes lately. Like…a soft understanding?

Whatever it was, he was glad that Heika finally could be able to see Wolfram in a new light, no matter how fragile the bond they shared.

Soft music interrupted the silence of the night, and he immediately recognized the soft song that drifted through the cold air of the Blood-Pledge Castle. A smile formed on his lips, accompanied by slight concern, considering how late it was already. He made his way toward the music room, where he knew someone would be sitting there, playing the grand piano.

The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, and there was a surprised shuffle, followed by a sudden stop of the music. The moon was shining through the windows just next to the piano, and suddenly he, Conrad Weller, found himself at loss of words.

There Greta sat, on the piano seat, wearing a thin pale cream dress, wide brown eyes staring at him. The pale light fell on her hair, those reddish brown strands now appearing silvery. Her cheeks were flushed from…embarrassment? Shyness? "Uncle Conrad!" she said, exhaling in relief. "I was surprised."

Conrad smiled and closed the door behind him. "It is late already, my Princess. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he asked gently, stepping toward the girl, who immediately blushed in response.

"I just feel like playing," Greta admitted, looking at Conrad with big, pleading eyes. "Hear me play, will you, Uncle? Please?"

Unable to resist, Conrad sighed and nodded, sitting next to her.

Her fingers danced, pressing the keys with no hesitation at all. He smiled, letting the melody lull him into a relaxed state. Gone was the tension of the day he had been bearing, replaced by genuine…peace? Warmth? Affection?

Love?

"_One thousand and one words _

_Drifting through the air between us_

_Listen, do you hear it?_

_The moon is calling us softly, gently_

_One thousand and one words_

_Messages sent between us only_

_Listen, can you hear it?_

_The night breeze is whispering to us_

_Let's spend the night together_

_Until all the stars above are alight_

_And new dawn breaks far in the east_

_Let's take our time with the music_

_Stay here, don't go_

_Stay, and whisper our messages_

_One thousand and one words…_

_Unspoken wishes and dreams_

_The air is warm with affection_

_Can you feel it around us?_

_The comforting warmth next to you_

_Let's spend the night together_

_Until all the stars above are alight_

_And new dawn breaks far in the east_

_Let's take our time with the music_

_Stay here, don't go_

_Stay, and whisper our messages_

_One thousand and one words…_

_Stay here, don't go_

_Stay, and whisper our messages_

_One thousand and one words…"_

Greta sighed, signaling that it was the end of the song. He snapped off his trance, warm eyes finding hers, nearly sorry for the need of going back to the reality.

What he saw in those chocolate orbs were tears.

"Greta?" he asked cautiously, genuine concern flooding from his very eyes. "Is there something wrong?"

The girl sniffed, before burying herself in his embrace. "Uncle Conrad…, I…. Actually, I…."

The rest of her words left him stunned on his spot.

**XXX**

**There you go. Shin'ou's conversation with the Maou is the hardest and lamest part. So, critiques, please! See you in the next chapter!**

_Aqua Alta_


	8. Three Little Words

_SAPPHIRE WATER, RUBY FIRE_

**Author's Note:**

**At last! Blame school for the late updating! This one is OOC, so I'll just give you an early warning. Mostly ConGre and YuuRam.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own KKM.**

**XXX**

_**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**_

_**For those who don't understand Maou and Shin'ou's conversation in the previous chapter:**_

_Shin'ou wishes to live again, while the Maou wants to have a body of his own. Shin'ou can grant Maou's wish, but with a price. To live again, Shin'ou needs a body, and Maou have to provide that. Shin'ou's first choice has been Yuuri, but some of the Maou's maryoku is still left in Yuuri's body in the form of a shield, therefore disabling Shin'ou from owning it. Shin'ou wishes for a body of someone that is loved, since the strongest person is someone that is loved the most, and Yuuri is loved passionately by Wolfram and many others. Finally, Shin'ou turns his eyes to Wolfram, who is loved by his family and Yuuri. However, since Yuuri has not realized his feelings yet to Wolfram, Maou's job is to make Yuuri jealous and realize his feelings toward the blonde. In exchange, the Maou gets a body of his own. Meanwhile, it turns out that Yuuri's barrier can be broken if the boy releases his whole power, and the only way to wake that power is if he loses someone the most important to him, in this case Wolfram. Shin'ou then tricks the Maou into a blood-pact that can't be broken. The pact says that if Maou fails in putting Yuuri and Wolfram together, the Maou will have to kill Wolfram in order to awaken Yuuri's power. What both Shin'ou and Maou do not anticipate is for the Maou to fall in love with Wolfram and rebel against Shin'ou. However, in order to prevent the alternative and killing Wolfram from happening, all the Maou can do, and has to do, is to sacrifice his own feelings…._

**XXX**

_**NOTE:**_

_**Songs to hear: Right Here Waiting (Richard Marx) for ConGre part and Perfect World (Simple Plan) for YuuRam part.**_

**XXX**

_CHAPTER 7: THREE LITTLE WORDS_

She had enough of waiting. Three years it had been, and the feeling she had felt that time…the feeling she could not comprehend…now seemed so clear, right in front of her very eyes. It was crystal clear, the sound of her heart pounding, the desperate yearning in her chest, the need to stay in his embrace….

His embrace was warm as ever. She sobbed into his chest, "Uncle Conrad…, I…. Actually, I…. I like you! So much!"

There. She had said it, the three little words.

Now the rest was left to the hands of Fate.

**XXX**

He cradled her, rocking her back and forth, letting silence claim the whole room, save for her occasional sobs. Her words pounded on his brain, his mind and heart trying to register what in Shin'ou's name was happening. How was he supposed to react? A confession from a thirteen-year-old human girl?

"Greta," he finally said, inhaling deeply for what might come, words hesitant yet comforting. "Are you sure about what you just said?"

A nod. Small, yet determined. Without even a single trace of hesitation.

For a fleeting moment, his hope soared higher than what he normally allowed.

He exhaled, then inhaled again. Even a trained soldier like Conrart Weller would never be prepared for this. Especially if the said soldier was more than one hundred and twenty years old and the said girl was thirteen years old. And even more especially if the said soldier was practically (though informally) the girl's uncle.

"What do you mean by 'like', Greta?" he asked the girl in his arms warmly, still not letting go the girl from his strong embrace. "Tell me."

Demanding. That was how to describe his previous tone. It surprised him, considering he never acted like that. Never that wanting. Never showing his desire.

Yet it seemed that whatever composure he had simply crumbled away in front of those big, warm chocolate eyes.

Greta buried herself deeper into his embrace, as if seeking something that she herself could not comprehend, and he tightened his grip on the girl. "I like you," Greta whispered, barely heard. "So much. Much more than anything."

His soft gaze turned stern when he heard that. He pushed the girl away, enough only to stare into Greta's teary eyes. "Of course I like you too, Greta," he started slowly, hesitantly, searching for signs, any sign, in those chocolate depth. "But I want to ask: what does that 'like' mean?"

Greta's eyes wavered. "Just like what Wolfram feels for Yuuri," she said, voice soft yet never hesitant. "Just like what Yuuri feels for Wolfram, even though Yuuri has not realized it yet…. Just like what they feel for each other…."

He froze upon hearing that. His voice was strained when he spoke again, "Greta, you must have mistaken your affection with paternal love." Tears welled up in Greta's eyes again, and he wiped the stray tears away tenderly. He sighed deeply. "Greta, it isn't as if I didn't take you seriously. However…."

Greta's next words caused his own to falter on the tip of his tongue. "It's not paternal love!" the girl said, shaking her head furiously. "It is different from what I feel toward Yuuri and Wolfram! Very different! I am…I am sure of that!"

The hurt and pain in the girl's voice was clear now, echoing through the whole room, a portrait of long hidden feelings and despair. His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage, and he took in a deep breath. Was that voice echoing her pain? Or his?

"Greta," he said, voice seriously yet this time with tone laced with hope. "Do you know what the name of the feeling is?"

Another shy nod. He waited for an answer.

He needed to hear a sentence before he could assure himself.

"It's…love…," Greta whispered, eyes downcast, unable to look at him in the eyes. "True love..., not paternal love…."

A sob, then a hesitant sentence from the reddish brown haired girl, "I…I love you…."

That was it, the sentence he had been waiting for long, the mild desire he had kept inside, the affection that he had been restraining…. The lock he head secured inside now clicked open, as if its key had been found, fitted in, and turned. Now he was unable to stop that door from swinging open wide, letting the girl in, letting al the sides and feelings he had been hiding, everything that none had seen, to be seen by this particular little girl….

He tilted her chin up gently, warm brown eyes capturing her own. A small, genuine smile spread on his lips. There was no use of going too fast. He had waited for years, and another wait would mean nothing to him. Slowly, he leaned in, kissing her forehead tenderly, with so much affection that Greta could do nothing but blush. Conrad broke their contact and stood up, offering a hand. "Shall this humble knight escort you to your room, my Princess?" he asked softly, smile as warm as sunlight.

She blushed again, accepting the hand. "Will you sing me a lullaby again, Uncle Conrad?" she asked timidly.

"Anything for you, my Princess," the man replied lightly, leading her out of the music room, toward her own room.

And with that, he started to sing.

"_Sing to me and call my name_

_I'll come straightaway and hold you tight_

_When you cry, I'll wipe your tears away_

_And take your pain as mine_

_Hum a melody and greet me now_

_I'll smile straightaway and embrace you_

_When you laugh, I'll smile with you_

_And bring more joy to you_

_I tell you now, I love you_

_Don't let go of my hand_

_I'll protect you throughout the time_

_I never pass a second without thinking of you_

_So please tell me that you love me too_

_Tell me what to do, and I'll_

_Cross a million oceans now and then_

_For you, I will cry and laugh_

_Be it my oath forever_

_I tell you now, I love you_

_Don't let go of my hand_

_I'll protect you throughout the time_

_I never pass a second without thinking of you_

_So please tell me that you love me too_

_I never pass a second without thinking of you_

_So please tell me…_

_I love you…_

_Don't let go of my hand_

_I'll protect you throughout the time_

_I never pass a second without thinking of you_

_So please tell me that you love me too_

_Please tell me that you love me too_

_Since I never pass a second without thinking of you…."_

**XXX**

"Yuuri?"

He turned with a yelp, surprised when he heard the soft voice calling out his name. He knew that voice, yet the tone was not right.

"…Wolfram…," he said, letting the name roll off his tongue, savoring how easily he could say it, how it felt…fitting. "Why are you awake?"

Wolfram simply stared back at him, emerald green eyes gleaming beneath the moonlight, the light giving them a silvery layer. "I can't sleep," the blonde admitted, dropping his gaze to the ground.

Yuuri frowned. The reply was uncharacteristic for Wolfram. Soft, vulnerable, somehow filled with pain. Where did the proud mazoku soldier go to? He left his position on the balcony, walking slowly toward the bed. Wolfram watched him in passive silence, the wind ruffling his golden tresses.

He sat right next to where the prince lay, onyx black eyes boring into those mesmerizing emerald depths. "Are you okay?" he asked, tone soft and genuine concern in his eyes, keeping his gaze on the pale blonde.

Wolfram averted his eyes, his bangs sliding and shading his eyes. "I'm fine."

Yuuri found the blonde's hand, and gripped it tightly, almost as if the blonde next to him was about to disappear any moment, any second. _'Which he might,'_ he added somberly, wincing when he felt how cold Wolfram's hand was.

"Your hand is cold," he said, trying to earn at least a sign of the return of Wolfram's temper. Yet when the prince looked up at him, those green orbs were glistening with unshed tears.

Panic flooded his heart. "Wolf?" he asked cautiously, somehow aware of the pain devouring the other boy's heart down. "What's wrong?"

It was unnerving and unbearable, seeing Wolfram like that. Fragile, just like a piece of glass. So brittle that he looked he might shatter in any second. _'Is this figure what Wolfram hides all along?'_ he pondered, unconsciously tightening his grip on the blonde's hand. _'What Masato means by 'fragile'?'_

Wolfram buried his head into Yuuri's torso, hands clutching on his pajama shirt. Slowly, slightly hesitant, he wrapped his arms around the slightly smaller boy. Even the blonde's body was cold, causing him to tighten his grip even more. A choked sob emitted from the boy in his embrace, and he stiffened.

'_What should I do?'_

Nearing to exasperation, he opened his mouth and began to sing.

The second song he sang that night, only for Wolfram.

"_Don't cry, 'cause I am here next to you_

_Don't weep, 'cause I am here for you_

_Smile that usual smile of yours _

_And I'll surely smile to you in return_

_Tell me what's wrong immediately_

_Tell me what's bothering your mind_

'_Cause I know now that your heart is brittle_

_Miss your arrogant smirk so much_

_Don't worry, 'cause I won't let you go_

_I swear I won't let you down_

_Trust me, 'cause I've got something_

_Something I've been wondering upon_

_Whether it's true or not_

_Three little words to tell you_

"_I love you"_

_Can't believe I did not realize it_

_From the very beginning_

_Even now I still have my doubts_

_But I just wanna see you_

_Look at me and you'll see_

_I hope you can understand _

_What I've been trying to tell you_

_No need for words right now_

_Don't worry, 'cause I won't let you go_

_I swear I won't let you down_

_Trust me, 'cause I've got something_

_Something I've been wondering upon_

_Whether it's true or not_

_Three little words to tell you_

"_I love you"_

_Can't let you go, 'cause I love you_

_Can't let you down, 'cause I love you_

_Doubts don't get in my way_

'_Cause I love you…_

_I tell you what…_

_Don't worry, 'cause I won't let you go_

_I swear I won't let you down_

_Trust me, 'cause I've got something_

_Something I've been wondering upon_

_Whether it's true or not_

_Three little words to tell you_

"_I love you"…."_

By then, he was cradling Wolfram, rocking the boy back and forth. Slowly, he released the blonde, who retreated a little, green eyes looking into his onyx black eyes, pleading, yearning, longing….

For what?

That pain, that anguish in those orbs, those tears…. All he wanted to do was to wipe them away completely.

His heart was beating faster and faster, the desire growing, expanding, filling his whole chest. Burning, a fire within him, nearly unbearable….

He whispered, simply for the sake of hearing the name from his tongue, "Wolfram…."

He cupped the blonde's cheeks, feeling his own growing hot. But his thoughts were clouded an hazy, with no space to think about trivial things.

He leaned in, savoring the feeling of Wolfram's breath on his face, warm, inviting, somehow shy and filled with hidden pain….

Pain he wanted to erase.

He pulled Wolfram closer, nearly rough in his actions, crushing their lips together in a soft, tender, and chaste kiss.

Words were no longer needed.

**XXX**

**There. Strange? Bad? Awful? I leave all the comments and critics to you! Yay or nay? Review! Next chapter will e up next week.**

_Aqua Alta_


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